Sunday, August 26, 2012

Anniversary Blog Fest: Margay Leah Justice

Summers of Old

I remember as a child thinking of summer as a passport to great adventures. Something wild and wonderful always seemed to happen during this time, making summer a magical time for me. I would look forward to it all year long and wonder what I would be doing this time. Would I be going to the Cape with my maternal grandmother or would our family be going to Virginia to stay with our paternal grandparents? Either way, I knew it was going to be good and I was going to make memories to last a lifetime.

The memories I have of these two places and the people who populated them are indelibly imprinted in my mind. When I think about my Cape adventures, I remember fun- filled days at the beach, going ‘clamming’ with my sister and selling our catch to a guy who owned a clam shack for 25 cents a clam. I remember bringing back a big carton of clams for my grandmother, who sat on a towel watching over us and looking like a movie star. I remember finding a ‘friend’ under our beach cabin and trying to coax it out with food, only to discover later that it wasn’t the cat we thought it was, but an albino skunk. And there were fun days at the park with my cousins, cookouts with the grownups, sleeping out on the screened-in porch and trying to listen in on the conversations the grownups were having while they thought we were asleep. I remember becoming such a part of the culture down there that I was able to go anywhere around town with my siblings and cousins and feel safe and as if we owned the place. It was a nice feeling.

I felt the same way about the county where my grandparents lived in the southwestern-most corner of Virginia, deep, deep into the mountains. I remember lazy days spent exploring the mountains, playing in the creek that ran through my grandparents’ property, being chased around by my uncle, visiting an endless supply of relatives. I remember always sitting down to a big meal three times a day (my grandmother did not approve of sandwiches), ‘helping’ in my grandmother’s gardens (she had a huge vegetable garden on one side of the side yard and an equally vast floral garden on the other), and just watching her prepare all these meals. It was fascinating for me to see someone as petite as my grandmother presenting such a commanding presence in her kitchen. Even the men didn’t bother her there! There are so many stories I could tell about my adventures there in Virginia – the good and the scary – but it would probably fill up a book!

Nowadays, I don’t get to go off on many adventures as the economy is bad and my budget doesn’t allow for it, but I will always have my memories of the wonderful times I used to have. I wonder if today’s generation can say the same.

About the Author:

Descended from the same bloodline that spawned the likes of James Russell, Amy and Robert Lowell, Margay Leah Justice was fated to be a writer herself from a young age. But even before she knew that there was a name for what she was doing, she knew one thing: She had a deep and unconditional love for the written word. A love that would challenge her in times of need, abandon her in times of distress, and rediscover her in times of hope. Through her writing, Margay has learned to cope with every curve ball life has thrown her, including the challenges of single parenting, the harsh realities of living in a shelter, coping with the diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis, and the roller coaster ride of dealing with a child who suffers from bipolar disorder. But along the way she has rediscovered the amazing power of words.

Margay currently lives in Massachusetts with her two daughters, two cats, and a myriad of characters who vie for her attention and demand that their own stories be told.

For more than a hundred and fifty years, the gray wolf has failed to roam the hills of Massachusetts, leading to the belief that they are extinct. But with a spattering of sightings across the Berkshires, the legend of the gray wolf comes to fruition. The product of that legend, Micah Sloane will go to great lengths to protect his kind from the threat of outsiders, who seek to exploit the legend for their own interests. One thing he didn’t count on, however, was finding his soul mate in the company of such men.

From the first time she predicted a stranger’s imminent death when she was little more than a child, Shiloh Beck knew she was different. Wishing to cultivate her gift, her parents made the fateful decision to enroll her in a private school for paranormally gifted children. Unbeknownst to them, the school was just a front for a research facility simply called the Institute, whose secret board members weaned gifted children from their families to exploit their gifts. Shiloh has spent the better part of her life trying to escape the Institute and reunite with the family she was told had abandoned her.

From their first meeting, Micah and Shiloh share a connection that goes beyond the normal to bond them in a way that love alone cannot. But before they can build a life together, they must deal with the fall-out when the legend of the wolves collides with the men behind the Institute.

10 comments:

We used to visit with my grandmother and she had a big apple trees. We put the apples on the bend of stick and flung them at each other. Hard to believe we thought that was fun.debby236 at gmail dot com